


City of Ash

by Dragonsire21



Category: Original Work
Genre: City of Ash, Darkness, Demons, Evil, Exposition, Fire, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Pyromancy, Worldbuilding, city, practice, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:12:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsire21/pseuds/Dragonsire21
Summary: When a knight is called to the lost capitol of pyromancers, he learns that the once magnificent city has a darker history than was once known.This is a submission for the January challenge on the fanfiction subreddit. Feedback is welcome!





	

The stagecoach jerked and jumped with each bump in the road. The lantern’s rings jingled against the hooks that fastened them to the vehicle’s ceiling. Feron ran his fingers across the leather seats, feeling each stitch in its diamond-patterned surface. He was surprised that he could get his halberd to fit inside, even if it had to stand stuck between the floor and ceiling. His armor plates clanged against each other as he and another high noble of Soriendal rode across from him dressed in more formal attire.

“You know, I’ve always admired a nice wood finish. I’ve never ridden in a coach like this before,” the noble declared as he observed the inside of the coach they were in.

Feron looked around, pretending to observe what he was seeing. He didn’t have time for finer details, he came looking for something bigger.

The noble’s face grew stern, his eyes piercing through Feron like knives. After a brief pause between them, he finally spoke.

“So, before we begin, might I ask what it is that may bring you to search for such a place? You do understand that this is considered a pyromancer’s holy ground, no?”

Feron just nodded, returning the same stern glare.

“You also understand that you stand high chance of not returning from this land, as well, correct?”

Once again, his question was met with a knowing nod and a stare that said “get on with it.”

The noble drew a pocket-sized humidor from the breast pocket on his jacket. Only nobles in this land could ever afford to smoke quality cigars. They were usually pre-rolled by the servant staff of their manors, and were considered a high commodity amongst the wealthy and powerful. They usually consisted of herbs, sometimes known as ‘star grass’ that when smoked put the smoker into a more relaxed state for a while. He offered one to Feron, who promptly accepted and held it in his mouth.

As the noble lit their cigars, he asked again, “So what was it that truly brings you to find the lost capital of pyromancers? I never took you for any sort of magic wielder, no offense.” 

Feron took a long drag, “I’ve heard many things about this place. Supposedly it calls out to some, beckoning them to make a pilgrimage of sorts, if you want to call it that,” he puffed his cigar, “I’ve had this feeling for a while now. I’ve just felt like something there is calling me, but I don’t know why.”

He truly didn’t know what it was that was bringing him there. In the past few weeks his dreams were filled with nothing but brilliant marble statues and torch bowls blazing in the night sky. The streets were almost too perfect to have been constructed with human hands. Each brick was spaced the exact same between neighboring ones, and their sizes were all the same. They lay flush with each other in the streets that ran through the magnificent city. Feron still wasn’t sure why it was called the City of Ash, though. Anyone he’d asked about it would outright refuse to talk about it or deny its existence, but he was no fool.

The noble furrowed his brow, “You mean to tell me you don’t know  _ why _ you want to seek out the lost city, but you are going to do it anyway? You must be some special kind of mad.”

Feron ignored the comment and proceeded to explain the dreams he’d had. Before he could explain more, the noble raised his hand to stop him.

“What you are describing is in fact that lost city of ash, but how would you know of these details? From what I understand, you’ve never actually been there before, yet what you have described is in fact accurate.”

The noble’s confirmation was strangely straightforward. He hadn’t even gotten to explain the massive cathedral that lie in the center of the city before the noble stopped him. He’d asked more pressing questions, such as about the bridge that closed the gap between the outside world and the first of three layers of the city’s massive outer wall. Feron recalled the bridge being nearly half a mile long, with a supporting column that extended down far into a dark abyss that acted as a moat. He recalled statues of angels, demons, priests, saints and other knightly figures lining the bridge’s thick stone rail as if welcoming them to paradise. The same perfectly laid glass-like marble bricks lined the surface of the bridge. At the end were two giant solid brass doors with runes and holy figures molded into the surface, as if guarding a holy sanctuary from the unworthy outsiders.

He looked visibly flustered. He refused to believe that Feron, a lowly knight (at first glance) could know of such a powerful and majestic place. After smoking nearly half of his cigar in one stressful drag, he asked, “do you know why this place was lost?”

Feron shook his head. Logically he wanted to say that war ravaged the city, which was what more often than not happened to places like this sooner or later.

“You must listen to me. Seeking this place will be your end. This place was once the crown jewel of any pyromancer looking to hone their skills or live in a place where they could master the art of fire. Don’t let it’s appearance fool you, it was no paradise. The Cathedral you spoke of before, that was the cathedral of Saint Von Lutherick. He was a deluded man, who would do anything to keep a tight grip on the city, even if it meant death warrants for anyone who dared speak against him. He was no saint, he wasn’t even a practitioner of the arts,” he put out his cigar in an ashtray, “it is called the city of ash because he burned the city to the ground.  _ Demons _ razed the city with the same power that the city held dear to them.”

Luckily for this man Feron happened to specialize in demons. It wasn’t anything new to him when someone would make a pact with one. He knew better than to trust them, and ultimately was the reason they would be banished back to the dark realm from which they came. Even though he considered himself immune to their charms, why was this evil city calling to him? Could it be Von Lutherick looking to seek an heir?

Feron wanted to know what was the cause for the calling. When he’d asked, the noble explained, “Von Lutherick, even in death, absolutely refuses to give up control of his domain. His power is fading. The city is falling to ruins, the brilliance of its marble architecture has long faded, and its status as one of the most beautiful cities that ever was has long left its soil. His soul refuses to rest until he knows he has eternal reign over it. To do this, he needs someone who was just like him, someone who cared not for the value of what the city held to rule. He of course, would rule through that individual, as he would never see someone else take his place. I believe he is looking for another, and you happen to be the one answering his call.”

He looked at the noble with worry, searching for some other answer. If this was true, this could test everything that Feron had once stood for as a demon hunter. This fabled ‘City of Ash’ was under the control of a powerful demon king, and he was being left with no choice but to walk straight through the gates of hell and into the clutches of a ruler gone mad. There had to be another option, another way to break his grip on him. The noble had noticed his fear, and asked sympathetically, “are you truly sure you want to do this? I can tell the driver to head east for the road of embers, but after that I will go no further.”

His mind was made. If he turned back, who knows how long the dreams would continue, or what else could happen. The answer was clear, he had a duty to fulfill. He was going to free this city, even if he had to die trying. He wrapped his hand around his halberd next to him, and with a final nod he said, “the inferno has raged long enough. Take me to the road, it’s time the embers had finally gone out.”


End file.
